


Call of the Siren

by VisionaryGalaxy



Series: A Thousand Futures of Me and You [150]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Cheating, Dark Tony Stark, Don't copy to another site, M/M, Masturbation, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, One-Sided Attraction, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-03-30 20:25:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19035028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VisionaryGalaxy/pseuds/VisionaryGalaxy
Summary: This was wrong.He knew it was wrong.But he couldn’t seem to stop.*Mind the Tags!*Reupload from secondary account: ButterflyEye (Previously called Siren Song but story already exists under that name in this series)





	Call of the Siren

**Author's Note:**

> I shouldn't have to say this but this is unacceptable behaviour in real life.

   This was wrong.

   He knew it was wrong.

   But he couldn’t seem to stop.

   He took another sip from the glass, smiling at the smooth burn sliding down his throat. He set it aside and lounged back in his chair, shifting until he was comfortable, legs spread wide in front of him and eyes already flickering closed.

   “Friday,” he murmured.

   She didn’t even have to ask what he wanted; he’d done this so much. His head tipped back automatically, a thrill going up his spine at the knowledge the city was sprawled out behind him, unawares that their hero was really this depraved man. That he was sitting in his darkened penthouse eagerly waiting to jerk off desperately to the sound of another man while his wife was asleep in their bed.

   There was the quietest of clicks as Friday started up the audio. As if by command, his cock began to stir in anticipation, his jeans instantly becoming too tight, too restrictive. Tony just let his muscles relax, ears straining for that quiet hum he knew by heart by now.

   There it was, almost imperceptible through the earphones but a clear indicator it was beginning. Blindly he reached for his drink again, needing to drown the dizzying mix of anticipation and guilt churning inside him as a familiar deep baritone reached his ears.

   Tony almost moaned at the sound.

   Stephen.

   God, if the sorcerer was a walking wet dream then his voice was a siren song and Tony was helpless to resist, not that he tried very hard.

   For now, he didn’t focus on the words, some mindless droning to Wong or another as he said his goodnight, no he simply revelled in the way that voice was like a hard whiskey, burning and intoxicating, always making you crave more.

   Through the earbud he heard the sound of creaking, Stephen making his way up those ancient stairs and toward his bedroom. Despite himself, Tony’s breath came quicker, still not immune even after all this time.

   When Fury demanded that Tony put hidden microphones in the Sanctuary to monitor Stephen and the sorcerers, he knew this wasn’t what Fury had in mind, but Tony figured this could be considered bonus for all his hard-work in the long run. If he was honest, which he rarely was, it had only gotten sweeter as he got to know the tall sorcerer.

   A door opening and closing, and Tony put his drink down again. Now, as he imagined Stephen unraveling his tunic in the supposed privacy of his bedroom, he twisted his wedding ring off and set it down with a quiet clank next to his drink. He wished he could say it was because of guilt or sense of duty to his wife but in reality, he just hated the distraction of the cool metal against his heated skin.

   There was rustling which Tony had long since identified as Stephen searching for lube and with a quiet sigh, he pressed his hand to the now distinguishable bulge in pants, squeezing lightly. He had been surprised the first time he listened, not to hear the familiar sound of a vibrator or squelching of a fleshlight or other toy, having assumed Stephen’s hands would be too damaged to get him off. Luckily, there had been a better prize waiting for him.

   The sound of Stephen situating himself on his bed, the mental image of that tall, lean body straining and shifting, the click of the lube bottle, had Tony popping the button of his jeans eagerly.

  His cock was fully hard as pushed down the zipper and slipped it from his pants to grip tightly in his hand. Honestly, he wasn’t sure if it was Stephen himself or the fact that he was listening in without the man’s knowledge that turned him on so much. He rarely felt like this with Pepper anymore, dutiful more then anything, whereas in this moment he could feel the way his hips wanted to buck, the heat racing down spine, the way his cock was flushed an angry red, veins bulging in anticipation.

   A sigh.

   Quiet barely recognizable but undeniably there as Stephen gave his own cock the first stroke. Tony’s eyes were squeezed shut, imagining the man’s long scarred fingers, glistening with lube as he gently, carefully ran it along the length.

   Tony bit his lip and forced himself to release his own aching arousal, one hand clenching the arm of the chair. He was wound up tightly and he liked to pretend it was because it had been a week since he’d been able to indulge in the recording but really this was how it always was listening to Stephen.

  There was a rhythm now, the soft sound of a wet hand sliding against flesh, broken only by a hushed sigh and quiet strain of the mattress. Tony knew he was simply getting warmed up, that Stephen was one to make it last and simply enjoy pleasuring himself for the sake of it, not always for the climax and Tony wished he could do that.

   As it was, he brought his hand to his mouth and began flicking his tongue over it a few times, imagining it was Stephen’s, waiting, always waiting for that sound that would set him off. A few moments passed, every sigh in his ear sending a heated thrill through him, until finally…

   A whimper followed by a strained _ah ah ah_ and those wet sliding noises speeding up.

   Tony spat harshly on his hand, having no need for lube, preferring a rougher touch before finally wrapping it around his straining cock, unable to stop himself from bucking up into his own touch, as his head fell back on a hard exhale. Biting his lip again, Tony began his own steady rhythm, listening intently until he was sure it matched Stephen’s.

   Stephen’s voice was like a god damn symphony, between his stuttered breathing and mesmerizing gasps, it was the whimpers, few and far between that Tony listened desperately for. Each one made his hips buck and he automatically twisted his wrist on the upstroke, imagining it was Stephen’s cock in his hand, that it was himself giving Stephen’s this pleasure.

   What he wouldn’t do to feel Stephen’s mouth on him, to be able to watch as Stephen got himself off, imagining the sweat glistening on that pale skin, the way his eyes must be squeezed shut, the strain of his muscles, the trembling in those clever fingers.

   A low groan sounded in his ear and Tony brushed his thumb along his slit on the next upstroke, catching the precum and using it to make the glide smoother, hips bucking of their own accord now as he struggled to keep his own sounds to himself.

_Ah fuck_

   Tony couldn’t help the moan that slipped from his lips, however, even knowing it was coming. Those words were said with a mix of frustration and pleasure, a sign that Stephen’s hands had taken enough of a beating and couldn’t continue.

   There was shifting and the strain of the mattress as Stephen switched position. Tony wasn’t the least bit ashamed to admit he had listened to this part of the recording obsessively until he could work out exactly what was happening, how Stephen was getting himself off.

   There was the ruffling of fabric and then a rhythmic sound of the bed shoving up against its frame. Not hard, but intent and the distinct sound of Stephen’s breath coming harder like he was straining to take air into his lungs.

   Tony was jerking himself quickly now, knowing the end was in sight, heat coiling in his abdomen while his muscles jumped eagerly beneath his touched.

   Stephen was rubbing himself against a pillow or his bunched-up comforter, Tony didn’t know which and the thought alone made his mouth water. He imagined him bracing himself on his forearms to protect his aching hands, the desperate push of hips as he tried to get friction on his aching cock, could hear as he sped up while moans of frustration finally filtered from that sinful mouth.

   Tony didn’t know why the man wouldn’t just buy himself a sex toy, maybe a vibrator to help, but as he let himself go, matching his heaving chest with Stephen’s harsh breathing, he was glad he didn’t. Those sheets would be a wreak after, stained with cum and lube but he knew once Stephen reached his peak, he would pass out in the mess and that thought alone was enough to have Tony’s hips canting up as heat sparked through him, giving a muted cry, blocked only by the fist in his mouth, as his cock jumped and spasmed, shooting his cum across his hand.

   The haze of orgasm washed through him as his body sunk into the cushions, listening to Stephen gasp and moan as he reached his own, smiling lazily while he continued to stroke his limp cock lightly, enjoying the shivers of oversensitivity.

   He heard the telltale rustling of Stephen shifting away from the mess, the quiet sigh of orgasmic bliss and finally silence as the man fell asleep. He reached over for his drink, ice cubes clanking lightly against the glass as he ran a hand along the earphone to turn up the volume until he could just hear Stephen’s breathing.

   He let himself indulge a moment more as he sipped the alcohol, imagining himself next to Stephen, the sound of his breath lulling him to sleep. He imagined that Stephen must be flushed from the exertion, sweat leaving his hair dishevelled but down right alluring, imagined kissing those lips and pressing his tongue inside.

   With a sigh he carefully tucked his cock back into his pants, uncaring for the mess of his hand, intending to toss them in the washer before joining Pepper in bed. Reluctantly, he took out the earphones and drained his glass in one quick swig.

   If he was better man, he would be feeling the post orgasm guilt of what he’d just done. But he wasn’t because he knew he would do again, because he knew that next time Friday alerted him to a similar recording, he wouldn’t be able to resist Stephen’s siren call.

   As it was, he had every intention of going to see the sorcerer tomorrow regarding some relic from Asgard and would revel in seeing the uptight, carefully crafted exterior of the man, all the while knowing at home, he’d be listening to him fall apart all over again.

   The thought made a smirk come to his lips and in a moment of bravery that he supposed he could blame on the alcohol he gave Friday one more command for the night, “Friday, compile a list of discreet, bug cameras please. I’ll look over it in the morning.”

**Author's Note:**

> I low-key think Stephen is well aware of the microphone ;)


End file.
